A waste of time

After seventeen years of marriage, I’ve come to believe that the reason that women are so adverse to men wasting time because they leave themselves so little to waste.

Recently, I spent 47 1/2 hours one afternoon in a women’s clothing store, whilst my wife chose exactly two (2) items of unmentionable undergarment which was apparent hand spun by Tibetan monks from the silk of the endangered diamond worm…all while my 5 year old daughter wandered the shop aisles commenting loudly on the various physical oddities and aromas of other shoppers, and trying on shoes…sometimes with the original owner’s feet are still in them…

…but wait, I’m not here to whine about money or kids…I’m here to whine about time.

You see, men require exactly 3 1/2 minutes (including time spent parking and choosing between a chunky and a mars bar at the checkout counter), to march into K-Mart, grab a package of boxer briefs in one of four available sizes (which those bastards are making smaller every year) and march back out.

And for most men, this is after years of time-saving by wearing the same three pairs of ratty, moth eaten, earth-tone undies until they look like they’d been attacked by a feral hog with a weed-whacker.

Now logically, if the same purchase takes an unnamed spouse of the female gender 3 1/2 hours, and I do it in three and a half minutes, I have earned myself …. 226.5 minutes of time to do with as I wish.

Please understand, I’m not suggesting that men do not waste time, or even that there’s anything wrong with wasting a reasonable amount of time, I just take exception to being judged for how I choose to waste my time, and the inference that looking at every single piece of clothing in a four-story department store (twice), is justifiable as a good use of time because you’re “saving money”…(yeah, I know fellas, that’s a whole other post...)

Not to mention that men save additional vast amounts of time by abstaining from activities like conversation, matching their socks, personal hygiene, etc.

Think of those precious minutes and and hours as deposits in the Bank of Waste. Just because YOU choose, ladies, to call your time-wasting “shopping”, please don’t judge us men for our more straightforward approach.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a couple of hours of saved up, and that couch ain’t gonna lay on itself…